


What ends in fire

by This_kitty_has_claws



Category: Marvel
Genre: Angst, F/M, Love Triangle, Pining, Smut, soul bonds, soul marks, soul mates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 08:33:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13678074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_kitty_has_claws/pseuds/This_kitty_has_claws
Summary: In Norse mythology, Hel features as the goddess of the underworld. She was sent by Odin to Helheim/Niflheim to preside over the spirits of the dead, except for those who were killed in battle and went to Valhalla. It was her job to determine the fate of the souls who entered her realm. She is typically portrayed in black and white, as well, showing that she represents both sides of all spectrums. She takes both forms.Hel is also undeniably in love with Bucky Barnes, who in turn is head over heels for her. However, another super soldier harbors feelings, which causes tensions amongst the team she loves so dearly.





	1. Chapter 1

“Bucky,” you moan softly as he wraps his metal arm around your throat. His flesh hand was positioned comfortably behind his head, his oceanic eyes were clear and lust blown as he took in your undulating form. His eyes never left you. Never once did he close them. Every emotion he felt was laid bare. They were all naked for you to see. You drag your hips forward, your back arching when desire spikes.   
“моя любовь.” My love, he murmurs, adoration clear in voice.   
He was your everything and you were his. There was no middle ground for either of you. It was intense and terrifying at the same time. He was your darkness and you were his light. You were yin and yang, two souls which were meant to be together.   
“мое сердце.” My heart, you reply.   
He moans as you increase the pace of your hips. He was hot and thick inside you. Every ridge and curve of him felt like heaven, bringing you closer to Nirvana. An intense wave which threatens to overwhelm you. His cock was a delicious drag which hit every mind blowing spot you had. You were drunk on him, lost in Bucky, completely engulfed by him.   
His hand moves from your throat to cup your breast. He gives the globe a firm squeeze and moves down your waist, cold fingers skimming across your soft skin finally coming to rest on the curve of your waist. He pushes you backward and drags you forward, not letting you rise to your knees but keeping you close, pressed together where he can grind against you.. He keeps it deep and slow, making you feel all of him, and he never lets you look away. He never lets you break contact. He needs your touch. He craves it.  
Your hands settle on his muscled abdomen, your fingers digging into his flesh.   
He curses softly under his breath, his teeth sinking into his plush bottom lip. The grip he has on your waist tightens and he sits upright and pulls you tightly to his chest. Your hands move to his shoulders and tangle in his lush locks. He kisses you fiercely, possessively as he makes your body shudder.   
You match him, pouring every ounce of love you hold into it. Every modicum of passion. You would have forever, and you knew it. It wouldn’t be the last time you could feel him this way. It wouldn't be the last time you felt safe in his arms. It wouldn’t be the last time you saw the light in his eyes.   
Your orgasm knocks the breath out of you. Tiny whimpers pass Bucky’s lips as he follows suit, rocking you both through the intense waves of pleasure. He never breaks the kiss. His hips rolling into yours with precision.   
His hands move to your back. Dark bruises were already forming on your skin, but he drags his nails down your back, mixing pleasure with pain, sending you over the edge once again.   
It lasts for hours, minutes, mere seconds. It lasts an eternity. The thread that ties you together solidifies with every tender word which falls from his lips. With every declaration of love, you fall deeper, harder for him. It’s suffocating. It’s freeing. It’s indescribable in its beauty.   
“Навсегда.” Forever, he whispers in your ear when he finally breaks away from your lips.   
“Навсегда,” you reply, placing soft kisses on every exposed piece of skin you could find. He’s still inside you, hard and ready to go again so you let him. The stirrings of arousal spike once again with one look from him.   
Bucky lived under your skin. In every cell. He was in everything you did and it wouldn’t, couldn’t be the last time you would hold him.  
************  
“ETA: thirty minutes,” Steve announces to the silent room. His gaze would flicker to you every couple of seconds.   
You were seated in your customary position in the quinjet. Legs crossed and eyes closed in an isolated corner. Your hair hung loosely down your back.   
Steve knew exactly what you were waiting for. It had been your pre-mission ritual since he met you. Usually, it fell to him to do it. He relished the trust you placed in him, but lately, things had taken a bizarre turn. Bucky was the one who took his place and he’d done it without warning. This he may have been able to handle. It was what followed which inexplicably set his nerves on edge.   
Bucky took a seat behind you without saying a word. Slowly, he begins to braid your hair. He’s methodical and surprisingly gentle with you. He begins to murmur, soft words in Russian.   
Steve never spoke, opting to give you the space to get into the right frame of mind, but Bucky would murmur. Steve had no idea what he was saying, but judging by the tiny smile pulling at the corner of your lips, you didn't mind it as much as he thought you did.   
He sits down next to Natasha who was in the process of polishing and sharpening her knives. “What’s he saying?” Steve asks her softly.   
Her hands falter on a pass. She looks up at him and shakes her head. “You should ask him, Cap.”   
Steve returns his gaze to you. Bucky ties your braid off with a hair tie and pulls you to your feet while Steve watches curiously. He never did understand what Bucky did next.   
Bucky hands you a full clip and a knife from his thigh strap. It was always the same knife and always the same clip. He knew because there were words carved into the hilt of the knife and into each individual bullet.   
You take them from Bucky solemnly and tuck them into your gear. Bucky grabs you by the waist and pulls you close to lay his forehead on yours, repeating the same word over and over again. Your pinkies link briefly, and Steve watches as you close your eyes and inhale deeply. It only lasts a second, and Steve wouldn't have caught it if he hadn't been staring.  
“Навсегда.”   
Steve’s heart drops somewhere into his boots. He may not understand the words, but he could feel the meaning behind them. He could taste the electricity in the air, and he hoped, he prayed he was wrong. He didn't think he could deal with it if he wasn’t.   
The friendship you and Bucky shared was an intense one. One he envied. He wished for the same closeness with you, but he’d squandered his chance long ago, and was ashamed of it.   
Bucky deserved happiness.   
Irregardless, the intimacy you shared didn't sit right in his gut. He almost felt like he had intruded on a moment which wasn't meant for other people's eyes.   
You moved. Bucky moved. Your actions mirrored each other. His gaze never seemed to stray far from you. You communicated without speaking. He seldom heard you and Bucky utter a word to each other. Yet, somehow, you always knew what the other needed. Bucky was the first person you reached for. The first person you looked for. Steve wouldn’t be surprised if you had feelings for Bucky. Even the lighter moments you shared with his best friend were electric.  
But, still, Steve was insanely jealous. He was burning with it, combusting with every seemingly innocent touch.   
You and Bucky pull away from each other at the same time and take your seats opposite each other while Steve sighs an internal one of relief.   
“Natasha. What was he saying?”   
“Leave it alone, Steve.”  
He swallows thickly, dropping his gaze into his lap. This was completely out of character for him. He’d only ever been this way with Peggy and didn’t like the feeling one bit.   
Natasha takes pity and places her weapons beside her, hiding her sympathy behind her usual mask. She was acutely aware of how in love Steve was you, even if (Y/N) wasn’t. “Forever.”   
“What?” Steve asks.  
The pity slips through her mask but only a little when she reaches out and grips his hand. “Bucky. He was saying forever.”


	2. Chapter 2

Several weeks later. 

The silk of the sheets whispered against your skin. The material was bunched around your waist, leaving your torso bare. You were snuggled against Bucky’s chest, his cool metal hand tracing the Goddess ruins which were inked up your spine. He was half asleep, drifting peacefully between the two states, a content hum rumbling in his chest as you cuddle closer.

“Tell me about your mother,” he murmurs, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead and then burying his nose in your hair. 

You smile a secret smile. Bucky’s fascination with your mythology was endearing. He would often ask you about your family, and at this point, he knew more about your history than the Edda’s portrayed. You had told him all the Saga’s had left out.

“My mother was the giantess Angrboda. She was seen as a mother goddess. The Queen of the Ironwood. Ruler of a clan of werewolves. She was most wise, if not a bit temperamental. Even so, she possessed a calmness about her, which was to her credit. Loki is a handful after all.” 

Bucky chuckles. “The Asgardians accepted her as a possible queen? I thought they hated the giants?”

You shake your head slightly. “My father's second wife, Sigyn, was seen as a possible queen. My mother was a queen in her own right. Loki acted as her consort. My mother was never going to bow to him. I think he rather liked it.” 

Bucky pauses, “Your father has two wives?”

“Of course,” you smile. “Angrboda was his first wife. He spent half the year living with her in the Ironwood, and the other with Sigyn on Asgard. Together, my parents had three children. I am the only one who can pass as human.”

“Your brothers?” Bucky asks.

“Aye, my brothers. Fenrir, he took the shape of a wolf. He is mighty and wise, but the gods hate us. Odin led the charge. There was a prophecy, one which said we would bring about Ragnarok. I was banished to Helheim, though, I think Odin still regrets the decision. I don’t think he foresaw the extent of my power.” Bucky pulls you closer. “Fenrir was chained to a rock with a magical rope made by the dwarves. His jaw was kept open by a magical device so he could not bite. His howls were agony for those who loved him. I traded his freedom for Baldr’s soul. He now lives in Helheim, guarding my gates against those who would harm me.”

“And the other?”

“Jormungandr. The world serpent. He took the form of a snake. Odin was so disgusted by him, he threw him into the sea. My brother grew so large, he wrapped around the world and could grasp his own tail. When he releases his tail Ragnarok will begin. It is said that it is only he who could kill Thor.”

“What will happen in Ragnarok?” 

You sigh sadly. “The prophecy says that Fenrir will escape his chains and swallow the sun. Odin will fall to him, locked between his jaws. Jormungandr and Thor will slay one another. Gods and Giants will battle and die. The world will descend into a hail of fire and death.”

“And you?”

You laugh humorlessly. “I will ride out to join my father with an army of the dead at my back. I will sweep across the world, taking the souls of Gods and men alike. Valkyries will fall to my touch and, I will no longer be bound by my oath to Odin. All shall be ruled by the Queen of the dead.”

Bucky swallows thickly. “And Loki?” 

You kiss him tenderly, assuaging his nerves. “Loki will return to my mother. His love for her is powerful. I have heard talk that he will make my aunt his slave, but I believe that it is pure rumor, borne from the hair incident.” 

Bucky’s brow furrows adorably. “Aunt? Hair incident?”

“Thor’s wife. Sif.” 

Bucky sputters and sits bolt upright. 

You huff in annoyance as you are dislodged from your place on his chest. 

His eyes are comically wide. “Thor is married?”

Giggling, you prop yourself on your elbows. “Of course. He is the King. He was betrothed to Sif as soon as she was born. They married when they both came of age.”

“But... Jane?”

“Multiple marriages are not frowned upon, Bucky. It is not uncommon for a man to have multiple wives or for a woman to have more than one husband. I seem to remember Sif and Baldr having a steamy affair. There are no animosities.” 

Bucky lays back down, bringing you to his chest once again. He seems to contemplate your words, running the scenarios through his head before he nods. “What about this hair incident?”

“Sif has long golden hair. It was the envy of all the gods. One night, Loki snuck into her bedchambers and chopped it all off. Thor was furious and demanded recompense. My father, who felt slight guilt at Sif’s sorrow, approached the dwarves who spun magical gold threads which attached to her scalp. It is most beautiful. Like a river of molten gold.” 

Bucky hums again, rolling you onto your back. He peppers kisses down your exposed throat. Bites down on the top of your breast and soothes the sting with his tongue. You gasp and arch, earning a dark chuckle from the soldier.

You card your fingers into his hair and bring his lips to yours. You kiss him slowly, lovingly, savoring the taste of him. Bucky moans into the kiss, nibbling on your lower lip, but you pull away, releasing his hair and tracing the line of his jaw.

“Have you spoken to Steve recently?” you ask breathlessly, the dampening between your legs put on hold as the image of your closest friend flashes in your mind. 

“You wanna talk about Stevie now?” Bucky replies incredulously. 

His erection is insistent against your lower stomach, and you shove at his shoulder. Bucky grunts and rolls over, so you can deposit yourself in his lap and grind down lightly. “He’s been distant and sullen as of late, James,” you reply. 

Bucky’s hand travels up your torso and cups your breast, his hips matching yours. “I’ve noticed,” he replies. He sits upright and moves your hair to the side so he can suck your earlobe between his lips. 

“Mmm. It’s gotten worse since we informed the team of our relationship.” 

Bucky hums in acknowledgment. 

You raise your hips, position him at your entrance, and sink down slowly. A prolonged moan leaves your lips.

“I’ll talk to him,” Bucky grits out shakily as he begins to move, his hands traveling to your waist. His grip is near bruising as he moves your hips in an eight-figure. 

You lean back, your hands placed on his thick thighs. Bucky’s gaze moves to where he is disappearing inside of you and soon all thoughts of Steve are forgotten.


	3. Chapter 3

“Good Morning,” you mumble as you stumble into the kitchen of the Avengers compound, clad in naught but an old T-shirt of Buckys. It hit mid-thigh and was far too large for you. However, it remained one of your favorites, lending a comfort which had been absent for most of your long life. 

You were born in the ninth century when times were simpler. Bloodier. Often you missed the simplicity. People said what they meant back then.

Steve glances up from his breakfast. His gaze travels the length of your body. He blushes as he meets your eyes, and, not for the first time, you wonder if Steve was holding back. His relationship with Sharon had lasted only a few short months. Afterward, his eyes would follow you around the room. He would seek out your company above the others. He was unusually attentive, that is until he learned of your relationship with James. 

“Morning,” he mumbles, averting his gaze back to his bacon, leaving you with a frown on your face.

You slide in next to him and place your head on his shoulder. He stiffens, every muscle going rigid. “Steven, won’t you tell me what’s bothering you? Have I done something to upset you?” 

Steve sighs, dropping his knife onto his plate with a resounding clang. He stands from his chair, creating distance between the both of you and smiles wanly. It’s a strained grimace which does nothing to dispel the uneasiness which has settled in your stomach.

“No, darlin’. Everything's fine.” 

You scoff in disbelief. “Steve, you can barely be in the same room as me! Don’t you dare lie!” 

Steve has the good grace to look guilty and drops his gaze to his shoes, a hot blush rising in his cheeks. He mumbles something unintelligible and fidgets. 

“I beg your pardon?” you snap irritably. 

He heaves a torturous sigh. “I don't understand. You and Buck hardly speak to each other. I’ve never seen you hold a conversation. I don’t understand... how…?”

“Ah, you are worried for your friend's heart. Has bucky never told you? How peculiar,” you muse. “Steve, Bucky and I... we do not need to speak. We communicate telepathically. The only time we speak freely is when we are alone.” 

Steve looks taken aback. Shock written clearly on his face. “Bucky lets you into his head?”

You nod, a sweet smile gracing your lips. “Yes,” you answer simply. 

Steve splutters, unable to form a coherent sentence, so great is his surprise. 

Your gaze snaps to those boring into you from the other side of the room. 

Bucky leans casually against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest. He nods and you stand from your seat to take Steve’s hand in your own. “Can we not be friends as we once were? I swear to you, I will not play with Bucky’s heart. He is my one. I could not harm him.”

Steve grimaces and an array of emotions filter across his features before he pastes on a smile. “Of course, darlin’. You know I can’t say no to you.” 

You squeal and throw your arms around his neck, placing a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “I am glad,” you state. Letting him go you throw him a last smile his way before sauntering over to Bucky who raises his eyebrows. You wink and he grins, following you from the room.

Neither of you notices the way Steve’s face falls or the clenching of his fists.

*******

Steve POV.

He watches you walk away. Your hips swing in a way which drove him near mad. His skin was on fire from your lips. He could still feel the heat of your skin on his. It was agony. Pure torture to have you this close. To have you within reach but never being able to call you his was a torture he thought he would never have to endure. There was a time when he could have been yours, but he had been overly cautious and buried his feelings. He’d pulled away from you, and you let him. It was one of the biggest mistakes he had ever made.

Bucky had told him everything in hushed tones after the mission. His eyes were alight with clear adoration as he whispered his confession. You had been seeing Bucky in secret for nine months, agreeing to keep the relationship from the others until Bucky was ready for the scrutiny. 

At first, Steve had thought it wouldn't last. He was sure it was purely physical. After all, conversations between you were few, but with the revelation that you did not need to speak aloud in order to communicate with had left a bad taste in his mouth.

What's more, Bucky let you into his head. He let you see all he had done. Every emotion he had was laid bare before you. Bucky let you see his guilt, and Steve wondered idly if you were the reason the nightmares had stopped. 

He didn’t think he could bear to watch the two of you fall further, faster, deeper into each other because, God he wanted you! He loved you. He craved you. 

Your soft laugh. The way your eyes would light up at a joke. The dark aura which followed you, one dipped in seduction and fire. The way you spoke was like a punch in the gut. A soft purr. A lover’s whisper. Your beauty stole the very breath from his lungs. 

He was in love with death herself.

In a strange way, he found it fitting. He had been a sickly child, always on the brink of living and slipping into darkness. Once when they were younger, he’d told Bucky he’d seen a woman, an angel wearing a dress made of stars. He now knew it was you coming to claim his soul. 

As a soldier he was reckless. Death missed him on many an occasion. It was a constant source of fear for Bucky, the incessant love affair Steve had with pushing the limits. 

Steve, however, knew he wanted to see the angel again. The angel of death who sang such tender songs as the fever took him. The woman he’d ached for years to see again, but now… now it was so much worse.

He was ashamed of himself. Ashamed he coveted the source of his oldest friend’s happiness. Ashamed that he couldn’t control it. Ashamed he wanted you so fiercely.

He sighs sadly. Oh, yes. Steve was in love with death, and death was in love with his best friend.

He begins to laugh, an uncontrollable laugh which shook his large body.

How ironic, he thinks to himself, to love and hate so fiercely the two people he would never be able to hurt by telling them the truth.


	4. Chapter 4

“Tell me again why you’re showerin’ before you train?” Bucky asks with an air of amusement. He’s seated on the bathroom counter, a bowl of cheerios in his metal hand. His sneakered feet are swinging idly in the air, thudding against the cabinets in regular intervals.   
Scoffing lightly, you peak past the shower curtain. “Super soldiers,” you deadpan.   
Bucky raises an eyebrow and chucks a cheerio at you. He grins when you gasp in mock anger, fishes the cereal from your hair, and shut off the shower.   
“You have no reason to be here, James,” you reply pointedly, groping blindly for a towel.   
Bucky hops off the counter and reaches for it. He wraps it around you, lifts you bodily out of the shower, and sets you on the floor. He places a quick kiss on your scowling face before he takes his seat once again. “So, showerin’ before you train? Is this a weird Asgardian custom?”   
Rolling your eyes, you grab the sweatpants Bucky had seen fit to bring you. “No. We live with people who can smell a breadcrumb in a trash pile, James. I’m in no mood for sex jokes.”   
His eyes widen momentarily before a cocky smirk graces his face. He places his bowl next to him on the counter and leans forward. “Well, dollface, I don't see the problem. I see how Mike from accountin’ stares at you, seems to me people could do with a little remindin’ of who you belong to.”

You narrow your eyes pointedly at him. “Belong? I seem to have been demoted from Goddess to possession.” You chuck a wet towel at him.   
He splutters indignantly and hurls it back at you.   
Giggling, you deposit it in the laundry basket.   
“Not what I meant, (Y/N), but weren’t you the one who explained this whole “One” business? Isn’t that the way it works? You’re mine and I’m yours. Forever.”

“Yes. However, you are not my possession Bucky, nor am I yours. Our souls are bound together. One half of the same whole. Your emotions are my emotions. Your thoughts are mine. You would be able to find me always, but I could never control you,” you say slowly and deliberately. You knew him too well. You could see how it scared him to be so naked in front of you. “You are your own person. You make your own decisions. I could not influence your thoughts even if I tried. You alone are immune to me. Your feelings are your own,” you say softly cupping his face.

He covers your hand with his own and smiles gently at you. “You know, doll, you need to stop doin’ that.”   
You frown in confusion. “Do what?”

“Stop apologizin’ for this. For us. I ain't gonna lie, it scares the shit outta me, but it's a good scared. I couldn’t imagine bein’ this happy with anyone else. You’re it. мое сердце. My heart. I love you.”   
You smile lovingly at him and place a swift kiss on his lips. “I love you, too but, we’re going to be late.”   
He groans and hops off the counter, delivering a stinging slap to your rump as he rushes from the room, cackling as he goes.

*******

Bucky POV

He watches you as you bring the sword over your head in an arc. Your body moves with a graceful fluidity which leaves his sweatpants uncomfortably tight. You’re beautiful to watch. Your movements controlled yet deadly. He almost feels sorry for Natasha.   
She had drawn the short straw and been paired as your partner for the days training. Natasha moves into a defensive position, eyeing you with barely concealed hatred, another thing he didn't quite understand. She coils and strikes, her batons whirling as she attacks.   
You smirk and dodge, and with a move he didn't catch, Natasha is on the floor, a sword pointed at her throat.

Bucky sniggers and glances at the silent Steve beside him. He sobers instantly, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Are you gonna tell me what’s eating you, pal? Or are you gonna stand there and brood till kingdom comes.”   
Steve snaps out of it and turns to face his friend. “Nothings eating at me,” he mumbles.   
Bucky snorts. “Uh huh, you want to try that again? Or do you wanna lie to me some more.”   
Steve sighs, throwing up his guard, and turns to face his team again.

“Is it Sharon?” Bucky ventures.   
His shoulders stiffen before he deflates. “Yeah, Sharon,” Steve echoes, but his gaze remains firmly on you and Nat, the latter having a really tough time laying a hand on you.   
“Pal, you’re gonna need to talk to someone about what happened. I’m here if you need me. I know it ain't easy.”   
A small smile pulls at the corner of Steve's mouth, his eyes alight with affection. “Thanks, Buck. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good. Now, I need your help with somethin’.”   
Steve’s attention is instantly on Bucky. “What do you need? Everything alright?” he asks rapid fire, his words almost blurring together.   
Bucky chuckles. “I’m fine. Everythin's fine. You need to loosen up some, pal. You’re gonna give yourself a heart attack.”   
Steve grins, a slight blush tinting his cheeks. “I have been a bit uptight lately. What do you need?”

“Are you still in contact with Thor? You know, where he’s settled with his people.”

Steve frowns. “Yeah, I know where he is.”

“Loki with him?” Bucky asks hopefully.

“Yes. Thor had to get special dispensation for Loki to settle here. Far as I know, it was granted after Thor got Strange to do a little hocus-pocus.”   
Bucky nods. “Can you get them a message?”

“Yeah, I can- Bucky, what’s going on?” Steve asks impatiently.

“I need Loki and Thor to come to the compound,” he replies simply.   
Steve huffs in frustration. “But why?”

Bucky smiles lovingly in your direction, his face open and happy. “I’m goin’ to ask (Y/N) to marry me. I want to ask her father's permission first though.”   
Steve’s face is curiously blank when Bucky looks at him again. His eyes though, his eyes look like hell herself was killing him slowly.   
He quickly schools his features into an expression of joy. “Of course, Bucky. Congratulations. I’ll get right on it,” Steve stutters out.   
Bucky frowns, a ball of worry forming his stomach, but before he can ask Steve excuses himself quickly, rushing from the room. Shaking it off as nerves, he returns his attention back to you just in time to see you slam Natasha’s back into the mat victoriously a second time.


	5. Chapter 5

Steve POV. 

He sits down heavily on the communal locker bench, his heart beating wildly and breaking with every breath. Married. Bucky was going to propose to the woman he loved, and like the idiot he was, Steve was going to help him do it. He lets out a humorless laugh and buries his face in his hands. 

What the hell was he doing? He was a mess. He could barely spend five minutes with you before he descended into a blushing, blubbering mess. His every waking minute was spent obsessing over you to the finest detail. He knew how you would tuck your hair behind your ear when you felt overwhelmed, or chew on your lip to keep sassy comebacks in check. He knew everything about you down to your favorite nail polish color. But it no longer seemed to matter.

He was lost. Drowning. He couldn't take it. He couldn't bear it. But he had to. Bucky was head over heels in love with you, and Steve wasn’t going to stand in his way. He had reluctantly made the phone call to Thor straight after he’d left the gym. Thor would be here in twelve hours, murderous brother in tow. The thought causes Steve to frown. Loki as a father-in-law would give the strongest among them nightmares. Although in all the years he had known (Y/N), Loki never once showed up for a visit.   
Steve idly wondered if they had some sort of falling out. You barely mentioned him, but what did Steve know? He hardly spoke to you these days. Bucky had the right to your time, not him, Steve thinks bitterly and scowls at his traitorous thoughts. 

Bucky deserved all the happiness in the world after what he had been through. Sighing, he shoves the depression down and moves to grab his bag when the bang of the doors opening draws his attention. He crouches down and hides from view, his heart threatening to jump out of his chest as the two people he wants to avoid the most come bursting into the room. Steve flattens himself against the lockers, going as still as a statue. 

Neither of you seems to notice him, though and soon you’re slammed against the backside of the locker Steve is hiding behind. The soft moan which leaves your lips has him swallowing heavily as he fights to keep his breathing quiet. 

“You look damn fine with a sword in your hand, kitten,” Bucky growls. “You made me harder than steel.” His words are followed by a low laugh from you and a faint ripping sound. “Bucky!” you admonish. “You can't keep tearing off my clothing!” 

“Sorry, darlin’. I’ll buy you new ones,” Bucky replies. Steve desperately tries to find an escape route, but he’s stuck. If he moved they would hear him and this definitely isn't a position he wanted to be caught in or suffer through. His eyes dart around the room as he ignores the rustle of clothes the best he can.

“Did you speak to-Oh! Steve?” 

Steve freezes with your gasp, expecting to be caught, but shivers when you speak his name. His entire body erupts in goosebumps. His cock springs to life. He closes his eyes, the smell of sex fills his nose. He swallows thickly. God, how he longed to hear you moan his name. To fill you and love you until you couldn’t speak. He wanted to feel your skin under his fingertips. He wanted to touch your most secret places, to find what made you scream. Your soft moans, your breathless whispers. He craved them all. 

Instead, you give them all to Bucky. “I did,” Bucky replies, his voice wavering slightly. Steve wishes it was him. His fingers curl into his pants, inching higher to where he needs it, your moans and whimpers encouraging him. 

“Oh! Fuck! Bucky harder!” 

Steve nearly bursts into flame. He gives it up as a bad job and firmly grasps himself, needing to find some sort of relief from the hell he was in. 

“Jesus, doll,” Bucky moans. The lockers begin to rock and for a moment Steve wonders if they’ll give and come crashing down. Soon, his mind drifts, imagining all the depraved and dirty things he wanted to do to you; what Bucky was allowed to do to you. He shoves the thought to the side, focusing on your voice. The way you said his name and resists the urge to moan, fights it with every ounce of his being. 

“Yes! Right there! Don’t stop!” you gasp, Bucky grunts in reply “You feel so good, baby, so good,” he slurs. Steve bites down on his lip so hard he nearly draws blood.   
“Bucky please!” you sob with pleasure. Steve imagines your face. Your eyes tightly shut, your mouth open, completely blissed out as he makes you scream, as he makes you beg for him. He would take his time. Explore every inch of you before he took you over and over. You would never leave his bed again. He could never have enough of his angel of death. 

“I need you,” Bucky whispers, just loud enough for Steve to hear. The words stall his movements. Shame coats his insides. “More than anythin’,” Bucky sighs. 

“Bucky.”

“I love you. Forever.” 

“Forever,” you moan. Steve shuts his eyes once again. Heartbreak and pain bloom in his chest. A muffled scream follows Bucky’s words, and Steve knows Bucky has clamped a hand over your mouth. He grunts, the lockers jerking three more times before the room goes silent save for the sound of labored breathing. 

“You are my forever, James.” Steve hears you whisper. “Never doubt it.” He fights the urge to cry. It wasn’t in his nature. Too many years of being the ‘little guy’, the one everyone bullied and picked on had beat it out of him. Tears only got you whooped harder, but he so desperately wanted too. “I know, babydoll. Sometimes I need remindin’.” 

“I shall remember to tell you at least once a day, my love. Now, tell me. What ails Steve?” Bucky groans. “We can’t go five minutes without talkin’ about Stevie?” Steve hears a very unladylike snort. “I worry for him, James. He is not himself. It hurts me when our friends are unhappy.” Bucky sighs. “I think it’s Sharon. He might be missing her, is all. He said somethin’ to that effect, at least.” 

“Oh! The poor man. How do we remedy this? Perhaps if we spoke to Sharon we could fix whatever it was that tore them apart?” Steve’s veins flood with ice. Sharon was the only other person who knew about his feelings for you, and she wouldn't hesitate to tell you.

“Nah, Steve’s a grown up. All we gotta do is be there if he needs someone to talk to. Don’t meddle, darlin’. You’ll only end up makin’ it worse.” Sighing in relief at your quiet, “as you wish,” Steve prays to every deity he knows that you and Bucky will leave. 

“I need to go find him, now that I think about it. I asked him for a favor,” Bucky adds as an afterthought. 

“Oh? What favor?” you ask with interest.

“It’s a surprise,” 

“I detest surprises, James.” 

“I know. This one you’ll love,” Bucky says soothingly.

“Oh. Alright. Off with you then. I'll see you for dinner,” you reply, sending him off. 

Soon, you've both gone your separate ways, leaving Steve a broken mess on the locker room floor wondering where exactly he’d screwed everything up and how he was supposed to live watching you be married to the man he loved like a brother.


	6. Chapter 6

“James, I feel ridiculous standing here waiting for whatever I’m supposed to be waiting for,” you say testily. You were garbed in your finest Asgardian dress on the insistence of Bucky. It was long and silver, a high slit cut up the side. It shimmered when you moved and delicate gold braiding adorned the middle. It was a gift from your father many moons ago. A relic from the Ironwood. That Bucky had asked you to wear it, set your nerves were on fire. 

He, on the other hand, radiated excitement. “Patience, darlin’. Here they come now.” Bucky points into the distance where two SUVs were pulling into the driveway. 

“Oh, Bucky. What have you done?” you ask horrified as the cars come to a stop. 

Bucky frowns in worry, and Steve mirrors the look beside him. “Trust me, doll,” Bucky replies confidently. You’re cut off from answering when Thor steps out of the vehicle. 

“Brothers!” he booms. “It has been too long, my friends!” He grins boyishly at the gathered throng. “Ah,” Thor says, looking you up and down. “It has been a long time since I have laid eyes on you, Hel. You are much grown,” he announces with a tight smile.

“Queen,” you reply shortly.

“I beg your pardon?”

“When the All-father banished me to Helheim for a transgression I had not committed, dearest uncle, I do believe I became Queen. Equal to you and the mighty Odin.” 

Thor blanches while the people behind you chitter nervously before drawing himself to his full height. 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“A great wrong was done to you that day. I beg forgiveness for my father.”

“Your father, mighty Thor? Was it not you who seconded him? Was it not you who held down my brother whilst the rest of them chained him? Was it not you who stood at Odin's side when he thrust my brother into the sea? Was it not you who proclaimed me too dangerous to walk amongst you? “An unsightly stain upon us,” were your words.” You turn to face Bucky. “What were you thinking? I told you how I felt about this... this monster! This was my surprise? You absolute-”

“Bunny,” a smooth, silky voice comes from behind Thor, one you would recognize anywhere. One you had missed greatly. One you only heard in your dreams. 

Your body goes rigid. Heart beating wildly in your chest, you stare vacantly into Bucky’s eyes while your brain catches up. “Papa?”

“If you are quite finished bringing the oaf Thor to his knees, I would suggest turning around, dear child, so that your eyes may see what your brain does not believe.” 

You turn around in a flurry of skirts, your chest heaving with excitement. For the first time in years, you lay your eyes on the man who had your heart from the very beginning. Your hero, your knight in shining armor.

“Did he call her bunny or did I imagine that?” Steve whispers to Bucky, who nods in disbelief.

“Papa!” you squeal, elbowing your way past an embarrassed Thor to fling yourself at Loki. 

Loki laughs with joy, wrapping you in his arms, and spinning you around.

Thor sighs, righting his suit and catches Bucky’s attention. “Nauseating are they not? I’m afraid, sergeant, you have fallen in love with the one being who can turn Loki into a dithering mess in an instant. He will destroy worlds for her,” he pauses, “He has destroyed worlds for her, now that I think about it. There was the awful business with the poor Jotunn boy who wanted her hand. When she spurned him, he chose an unfortunate turn of phrase. Pity, they were a most interesting people.”

Bucky swallows harshly. “What happened to him?” he asks shakily. 

Thor pats him comfortingly on the shoulder. “Do not fret. She seems to be fond of you. Just... do not insult her in front of him.”

Bucky flushes with anger. “The same way you did? She told me what you did, Thor. The insult you paid her. Yet, here you stand. I wonder why?” 

Thor growls and takes a step toward him, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

“If you wish to keep your hands, dearest uncle, I suggest not raising them to my one. My oath was to your father. He is dead. I am free to reap whomever I choose, whenever I choose. Touch him and I will kill you.”

“You would not dare.” 

You raise an eyebrow, your hands glowing a faint green at the challenge.

“Your one? I demand an explanation!” Loki hisses from beside you. 

You smile sweetly at your father and bat your lashes at him. “Oh, papa. Sergeant Barnes is my soul bonded. We are paired.” 

Loki narrows his eyes at Bucky. “You bear his mark?” he asks.

Laughing nervously, you place a hand on Loki’s forearm. “Of course. How else would I know?” 

Loki slips out from beneath your hand and saunters toward Bucky. When he stops in front of him, they are nose to nose. “You gave yourself to this... this peasant?” he sniffs, studying a stunned Bucky. “He is but a mortal,” the word rolls from his tongue full of disgust, “useful, certainly, to entertain oneself with, but hardly worthy of your time, let alone your mark, bunny. Let me rid you of him and find you, someone… better.” 

The sparkle in your father’s eye showed he knew exactly what he was doing, baiting Bucky into reacting, but you were having none of his theatrics.   
“Oh, for heaven's sake, father! Stop being so dramatic. Honestly, I don't know what you’re harping on about. Was Sigyn not a mere merchant's daughter? Elevated by your bond? You’re being incredibly hypocritical. And, if this is how your stay will be, I think it best you go home.” Placing your hands on your hips, you tap your foot on the ground in aggravation. 

Loki turns to face you, a pout forming on his lips. “Bunny-”

“Don't bunny me. It shan't help you.”

The sparkle dims to his regular inherent glow of magic when he comes to the conclusion you are serious. “Fine,” he pouts. “I promise to be on my best behavior.” Which, really, isn’t promising much, but he holds out his hands for yours and grasps them tightly. “I have missed you, dear one. You are never far from my thoughts.”

“And I you, Papa. It has been too long since last we met. The evenings I spend in the garden do not compare.”

“Garden?” Steve whispers. 

“Tell you later,” Bucky whispers back hurriedly, plastering a smile on his face as you and Loki turned to face him once more. 

“Father, meet Bucky Barnes. Sniper in the 107th, the Winter Soldier, and my soulmate. I bear his mark. We are tied together. But I will, still, ask for your blessing.”

“Pleasure to meet you, sir. I mean, your highness,” Bucky stumbles.

Loki sighs, his eye twitching with concealed emotion. “Of course, bunny. You shall have it.” Though it appeared he would give it begrudgingly. He was always one to play his emotions close to his chest, so while you knew, likely, he was not altogether happy about this, what he would perceive as a “losing” of his little girl, all he’d ever really wanted was for his children to be happy. If you could be that, then he would not stand in your way. Though he might mess with your bonded. 

Smiling radiantly at them both, you clasp a hand of each in yours. “Lovely, shall we have tea? Our chef makes the most delectable coffee cake.” 

They nod mutely and come along like trained puppies, albeit murderous trained puppies, following in your wake.

“Asgardians,” Steve mumbles. 

“They’re fucking crazy,” Sam finishes for him.


End file.
